


10,987 Nights at Freddy's

by TomatoSpoop



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:33:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomatoSpoop/pseuds/TomatoSpoop
Summary: There are 10,950 days in 30 years, that's a long time, even when you aren't possessing a spring-lock suit and trapped in a sealed-off room. This fic explores what may have taken place between the Purple Guy's death and discovery in FNAF 3. This is only loosely based on canon events and is my own interpretation of the Purple Guy.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I hope you like my first fic. Before you continue on please make sure that you are ready to read it, some parts of it are very gruesome and uncomfortable. 
> 
> So far I only have 4-5 chapters planned, that could go up or down as the need arises and chapters are short. That being said, I may not be able to update very frequently.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated, don't be shy to leave a comment, even a "negative" one. If there are any tags you see that I have missed please tell me and I'll get it fixed right away!

His laughter echoed through the abandoned halls. A deep chuckle, the kind that builds in the stomach and skips to the back of the throat in loud segmented belts. One hand was placed gently to the front of his chest, or, as close to his chest as it could be with the thick yellow shell and the spider web of mechanisms that pressed tightly to the inner walls of the body encasing it. The other pointed out towards the five figures standing before him. Unimaginably pale, they stood shoulder to shoulder. Their faces were warped and faded, not grotesquely- but it was obvious a certain something was lacking to them. In life, these ghostly apparitions were as different as they come, but their unique ages, heights, faces, even names had blurred over the years. It was a glimpse of the truest kind of death, of deletion. Obliteration of the self that left behind hollow shells of sorrow and rage. Their limbs and faces were almost perfectly smooth and identical, like stones worn down by a river. The uncanny likeness was only compounded by identical unblinking eyes set deep into each face.

One stood before all of the others, staring at the familiar gold-clad figure, but no longer seeing, or even responding to the rancorous laughter that came bubbling out from behind the maw of false teeth.

The suit was hot and bulky, which made it hard to move on its own, a predicament made even more drastic by the constant threat of the delicate locks within. However the monster inside the suit wasn’t planning on moving, and even if he had, he was too immersed in the euphoria of his escape to care.

No, all he needed was a place to hide. The same place he had been hiding for years, behind the veneer of the Spring-Bonnie suit.

"It fooled you then!" he crowed,

"And it fools you now!",

His shoulders bounced with every breath. His earlier fears of the spectral pursuers had been washed away by the delirious excitement brought by his escape. The mocking finger continued to point towards the spirits, who stood in motionless anticipation. The laughter continued, rising from its original pitch into a manic, breathless cackle.

"I can't believe-" He took a deep breath in a feeble attempt to steady himself;

"How you could be so stu-" Only to be interrupted by a sudden click that sent a jolt of fear up his spine. 

The suit underwent an immediate chain reaction, the slip of the first lock triggered the two beside it, which then caused four, then eight, then the whole torso shuddered. Springs unlocked in rapid succession, driving themselves deep into the vulnerable torso of the man inside. Several ribs cracked upon impact, as his body instinctively attempted to curl into itself, but there was no escape from his former sanctuary as panic took over his mind.

 _OH GOD_

Metal rods shot themselves into his lungs, his stomach, his spine. He threw back his head in a scream that was cut short as the spring-failures traveled farther. Something inside his throat popped and crumbled beneath the cutting metal, blood ran in and out of his windpipe. He took a deep shuddering gasp, tried to at least, but the blood rapidly filling his lungs would not permit it. The man could only gurgle as the liquid gushed out of his mouth.

 _OH GOD GET IT OFF-_

The metal framework burst its way through his pelvic bone, shattering it in several places and he fell to the floor, physically incapable of holding himself up. He dropped back against the wall, hands flying to pry the death trap off of his head as the crude machine pierced its way into place. Four slim cylinders erupted through his jaw and stuck there, pinning his mouth open in a permanently muted scream.

_HELPMEHELPMEITHURTS IT HURTS PLEASE, PLEASE- GET IT OFF-_

He could only whine and gurgle in protest as the eyes of the mascot slammed into place and ruptured his own, dousing him in permanent darkness. His fingers wrapped around the false jaw, tugging, not in an attempt to rip it away, but in a desperate need for something- anything to hold on to. He tried, again and again, to call out through the blood and tears.

_OH GOD, OH GOD PLEASE-_

His arms fell to his sides as he impacted with the floor and the remaining locks in his limbs sprang into position, crushing bones and leaving them useless at his sides, the delicate bones and tendons in his hands and feet were forced into impossible angles and each digit splintered. 

_NO, PLEASE-_

Blood poured from every opening and spilled onto the tile beneath him. His body spasmed uncontrollably. He tried and failed to lift himself, tried to raise his arms and reach out to something, anything. `

_PLEASE, SOMEONE-_

But there was nobody there. 


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is a very short chapter, but I didn't want to drag it out for too long because I feel it would get very redundant very quickly. Anyway, I hope you guys like it!

Day 1

It felt like a lifetime before he was able to realize he was even conscious, but as soon as he did he wished he hadn't. Confusion shrouded every thought, but the pain was worse. He couldn't tell where it was coming from, which made alarm bells go off somewhere deep in his mind. He shouldn't be able to feel pain but not know where it was coming from, right?

Nothing made sense- and the longer he waited for the more he felt like something was terribly wrong. He wasn't breathing- he felt the need to but couldn't reason out how exactly to do it yet, but the fact that he wasn't made what little part of him that was aware panic a bit. An attempt was made to make a sound, but he then realized that he couldn't hear, or see, or feel anything other than the pain that was now a part of him. He no longer knew if he was alive or not- and he wasn't sure which possibility scared him more.

Day 2

His senses slowly returned, he was able to hear the steady drip of the leaky roof, and then able to perceive the darkness around him- but nothing more. So he waited in maddening darkness until a blinding light pulled him back to reality. Someone entered the room- someone was there- someone could help! He still didn't understand what was happening, but this new person could save him. He was able to see, but what he saw didn't make much sense- in his state, it was impossible to interpret his surroundings, there were just things, clusters of shape, light, and shadow that had no meaning to them. The case was the same with sounds, he heard the person speak, heard each word perfectly, but the meaning was lost.

He tried to make a sound, to move or scream or do anything to get their attention, but no sound came out. Upon hearing their feet shuffle across the tiled floor the suit came to life of its own accord, attempting to go through its programmed routine, but it was clearly malfunctioning.

“He-ello everybody, to Fre-re-red Bears Fam-m-m-” it sputtered.

The endoskeleton wasn't fully assembled yet, its progress had been obstructed by the body, and each attempt to tilt the bulky head or wave the arms resulted in spasms. The corpse inside crunched and squished under the pressure, resulting in a burning agony for the soul trapped inside.

Every instinct he had told him to scream and flail, but no matter how many times he tried nothing came out. He had no lungs to inhale with, no mouth to open, no limbs to thrash about. He wanted to sob and cry and for this new person to for the love of god help him. They did not, only jumping back at the horror show before them and hurriedly leaving the room. Useless. They came back with bricks and mortar and workers to wall off the tomb and take the light with them.

Day 27

In time he found himself able to process his surroundings through the mental fog. The suit was still active, and the lights within the eyes gave off just enough light to reflect off the tile and reveal where he was. Apart from the constant agony, the biggest issue was how to deal with the boredom. He had always thought of himself as a sane, well-put-together man, but the complete lack of stimulation had been taking its toll on him. Even in the dark, he was hearing and seeing things that couldn’t be real. Familiar shadows appeared and disappeared, walking in front of him, sometimes staring from the other end of the room. He often heard the sounds of other people with him, but they never stayed long.

The children had left their shadows behind. He could hear them laughing in the walls and the sound of light footsteps. Eyes glowed at him from the darkness, staring out farther away than he knew the room could permit and coming closer, only to disappear. At first, it was terrifying, but then he realized what, or rather who they were. He felt a perverse sense of triumph, the miserable brats were stuck here too.

Day 94

Eventually, he gained enough control over his new “body” to shift his legs underneath him, and leaning back against the wall for leverage, he shakily lifted himself off of the ground and stayed slumped over for a time. He had even learned how to manipulate the voice box within the suit to make small blips of noise similar to groans or wheezes; not well enough to scream for help yet, but it was something.

The amount of effort movement took was exhausting. The slightest action required more time to execute than he liked, but he felt a surge of pride with each success. If he could grin he would have. This was so far the farthest he had gotten, he had lost track of how many attempts it had taken just to bend his leg or even drag his foot across the floor. His triumph was quashed when the suit activated to some distant noise in the building, sending another spasm through the shared body and causing the legs to buckle under the unexpected movement. He pitched forward and again felt the need to scream and curse and the spring locks snapped on what little gaps remained between them.

The downside of regaining mobility became immediately apparent as he writhed on the floor from the pain, which only made it worse. A cry came out of him in a voice that wasn’t his own. When it ended he was overcome with a wave of helplessness. The entry was sealed shut, he had been hidden away and forgotten about. Swept under the rug like so many who came before; the disposable, unimportant nobodies. The thought made him furious and he felt the familiar need to break something. The only thing within reach was himself so he settled for that. It took several uncoordinated attempts, but he began to viciously tear at the suit, grabbing at the torso and the mouth, overwhelmed by the urge to get the damn thing off get it off right now. Fresh rips and tears formed under the assault, but it did no good. He managed to grip one of the ears and with unexpected strength ripped a piece of it off his head and hurled it across the room. It hurt more than he thought was possible, but it was undeniably satisfying to have something crumble under his hands. He didn't know how long it took him to come down from his little tantrum, but when the frenzy inevitably died he was still just as powerless as before. He could only sit in the suffocating darkness. He felt the eyes on him again, mocking him.

No one was coming and he was never getting out.


End file.
